The Swap
by facemygeneration
Summary: Sam and Dean swap bodies b/c of a witch. Having noticed Dean's obvious feelings for Cas, Sam decides to play cupid. He tells Cas, who doesn't know it's Sam in Dean's body, Dean's feelings. Sam definitely did not expect Castiel's reaction. Rated T in case.
1. Chapter 1

_Hola Mishamigos! I just got this idea and I thought it might be 's Sam's POV, but…Well, you'll see. Don't worry; I'm still going to be working hard on Fate of a Freewill Angel. Which people should read, if they haven't!_

_I wrote this pretty quick, so excuse any flaws, ooc-Sam moments, or typos. Other than that, e__njoy!  
_

* * *

Chapter One

Sam woke up in a heap on the ground. Something felt off, he was sure of it. It wasn't a feeling in his head or mind, more of a physical feeling. Looking down, he realized the problem instantly. He wasn't himself. Well, not himself as in Sam. He was _Dean._

Sam tried his best not to scream out like a little girl, which resulted in a sort of grunt-whimper. A bit pathetic, but better than a squeal or anything too embarrassing. He tried to be practical and think back to how this could have happened. What had they been doing?

Finally he remembered: they had been tracking a witch.

Dean had heard that the fortune-telling-wish-granting machine from the Tom Hank's movie, Big, was in Tennessee a couple miles from where they were staying. Being a "secret" Tom Hanks fan, he insisted they go see it.

When they got there they realized that people who used it were, in fact, getting their wishes granted. Dean, immature two-year-old that he was, starting flipping out. He was convinced that "the magic of the movie has brought the Zoltar to life."

Realizing pretty quick that this was a case, Sam did some digging. After a few hours, Sam found that it had to be a witch. There was a little marking on the back of the machine that he had only seen in correspondence with witches, and nothing else he knew could pull of something like this. Besides that wish-granting coin, of course. But they had melted that down.

After he convinced Dean that it was a witch, not Tom Hank's magic, they went to summon the witch. Unfortunately, they had to do it at the machine. It was pretty far from where they were staying, since all the motels around there had been booked on account of tourists and fans. Dean didn't want to suffer through a long drive without some food, and insisted they stop at a restaurant.

When they got there, Dean immediately noticed a very attractive waitress. Much to Sam's dismay, she had just _happened_ to be their server. Knowing that Dean was going to go all womanizer, Sam buried himself in learning the summoning ritual.

His mind wandered, though. He thought about how idiotic Dean was being. He didn't like this girl, not really. It was just a distraction. Sam had been noticing for a while now. Dean wasn't acting the same way since they met that nerdy little-

"Sam! She's coming back. Don't say anything that makes me look bad, alright?"

Sam nodded obediently, but it didn't matter anyway. Surprisingly enough to both brothers, this girl did not fall for any of Dean's usual tricks. Sam started noticing quickly, and soon he decided that he liked this girl. The enemy of his enemy was his friend, after all.

What started out as light snickering evolved into very hearty laughter as the waitress shot down come-on after come-on. Sam knew that Dean was not used to rejection. Sam also knew that this, combined with his frustrating stubbornness, would ensure that he wouldn't give up.

It was turning out to be a much more entertaining meal than Sam had initially expected. Until the girl starting talking to _him_, that is.

* * *

_How much can a waitress come to one table and still be paid for serving them all?_ Sam wondered to himself. It was about the eighth time the waitress had come to their table, and it was starting to get a little weird. At first it was amusing because Dean was being rejected, but now Sam was the one feeling awkward and Dean wasn't helping.

Sam regretted laughing at Dean then. Karma is most definitely a bitch.

"The answer is yes," Dean stated in a very satisfied tone to the mysterious girl who lacked a nametag.

"Excuse me?" said no-name.

"Yes, I _do_ work out on a regular basis, and that _is_ why my body is so amazing."

The girl only rolled her eyes and went to fill up Sam's coffee. He leaned back, he did not want to be anywhere near this girl, but she seemed to want to be near him. Dean would kill him if Sam "cockblocked" him though, so he knew to stay the hell away.

"My baby brother here is a Mathlete. Tell her, Sammy," Dean said with a smirk.

Knowing he had no other choice, Sam conceded. Dean had Sam memorize the Mathlete theme years back. He said it would be a perfect wingman dealbreaker. It was chanted so many times by now that Sam said it without even having to be kicked by Dean under the table. "Subtraction, addition. It's all my division. Don't shirk your work, it's time to learn. Go Mathletes."

He glared at Dean, who flashed him a grin and looked up at the waitress. He was expecting a look of disgust, a laugh, pity maybe? He was not expecting her think of it as a god thing.

"Smart guys are hot," was her response. She walked away with a self-confident strut and Sam couldn't help but stare after her. Finally someone appreciated more than just rugged looks and cheesy pickup lines.

Dean whipped his head around and shot daggers at Sam. Just as bewildered by this turn of events as Dean was, Sam threw up his hands in defense.

Fortunately, Dean gave up in his task of wooing the girl after that. He muttered something about any girl who liked Sam being a dog, which just produced a smile from his younger brother.

After paying for the check, they got up and were about to walk about when no-name appeared in front of them. It was so fast Sam was scared she was a demon, or worse, a crazy angel. But she was just fast, he reassured himself.

She grabbed a pen out of her little apron's pocket reached for Sam's hand. Flipping it palm side up, she scribbled something on it quickly. Then she grabbed his collar, pulled him down to her level, and kissed him right there in the entrance to the restaurant. With a flirtatious smile, she was gone as quickly as she had come.

* * *

Once they were in the car, Sam ventured a look at his hand. He had been so baffled by no-name that he hadn't even thought about it.

Dean looked over and noticed Sam staring at his hand with his eyebrows furrowed.

"What is it?" he demanded, obviously still annoyed about being passed over for Sam.

Sam shrugged his shoulders and held out his hand so Dean could see.

_Call me sometime. I do love a tall man. 555-932-2984_

"A tall man? I'm 6'1"! A tall man…Pft."

Dean snorted and grunted to himself about it for the rest of the night. Sam could tell his ego was bruised. He did _not_ like being ignored, rejected, or insulted. Now all of these things had happened to him in the same night.

Sam said nothing and rolled his eyes. It was so stupid that Dean kept pretending he cared. It wasn't like he would have slept with the girl anyway. He would have had a few drinks, maybe even fooled around with her. But Dean hadn't actually had sex with anyone in months, and that was because of Castiel. Dean didn't think anyone noticed, but no one knew him better than Sam.

Sam just hoped he didn't do something stupid to prove his manliness, like usual.


	2. Chapter 2

_Okay, It's back. I really should be finishing FFWA, but what can I say? I'm easily distracted. And on a fudge-induced sugar high. So prepare for some definite Destiel crack in the future!_

_Thank you to Ventorum and Ooyuki-Chan for the reviews. It was quite nice and I really appreciated it!—Enjoy!_

Chapter Two

Sam was lying in the cheap motel bed where they had stayed after the night of driving. They had decided to do the summoning in the early morning when no one was around. Dean said something about beauty sleep in case some hot witch appeared. Sam had laughed, but really couldn't tell if he was joking or not. That was the thing with Dean. He switched from wry sarcasm to complete seriousness in a matter of seconds. It was tiring and frustrating keeping up with him. The only person—or rather, thing—that seemed unfazed by him was Cas.

At that precise moment, Sam was not feeling too well. He was still pretty hungry, since he hadn't eaten anything at dinner. This was on account of that nameless girl flirting with him and seriously throwing his usually very stable equilibrium.

Things were not supposed to happen in that way, after all. Dean got all the hot girls with even a hint of mystery, and Sam "got" all the way-too-nice-for-Dean-to-sleep-with-and-not-feel-guilty girls. Even in his own thoughts, Sam made little quotation marks around got. It was only fitting, seeing as Sam rarely ever got up the nerve to even talk to the girls Dean deemed Sam-acceptable.

So to sum things up, Sam was quiet unhappy. And what definitely didn't help was sitting up to find that Dean had left. Very confused by how Dean had managed to leave without making any noise, Sam wandered around the room for some clues.

Once he got to the bathroom he realized what had happened. A breeze drifted in and the curtain fluttered.

"God dammit, Dean…" he grumbled.

He headed outside. He knew where Dean would go, considering why they were there. The question was how he was going to get there, since Dean had taken the car. He hated being untruthful, and that included stealing, but he couldn't let his brother do anything either of them would regret.

* * *

Dean stared at the machine. Should he do it? No, that would be stupid. Not Dean-like at all. Not even _near_ manly. But then again…

"No," he grunted, aloud this time, "I don't need some stupid wish. Girls love me. I'm a chick_ magnet_!"

Dean thought he heard something, and cocked his head. Was that laughter? Dean whipped around, but no one was there.

He turned back around to face the stupid piece of crap, "Who cares that my _little_ brother is taller? I don't care! I. Don't. _Care!_" he yelled, punching at it. He immediately regretted it when his hand began to throb.

The pain seemed to calm him down a bit. He thought about it for a while, and finally as he was turning around to drive back to the motel, he muttered, "I wish I was the taller one…"

He hadn't even meant to say it. It just popped out, uncontrolled. His head snapped back to look at the machine, his stomach dropping and his heart stopping.

There was a lengthy pause as Dean stared at the contraption and hoping that nothing would happen. But then again, what's the harm in being taller?

And then it started lighting up, the hands started moving, the mouth opened and closed. He could hear the gears whirring and clicking, and he suddenly remembered being younger, watching the movie for the first time. He was already pretty old, nineteen maybe? But the magic was not lost to him.

He saw a miracle happen in that movie, a thing that he encountered every day. But what he saw were not true miracles. No, they were little tricks and demon deals, things that were evil and never should have happened. Dean was the opposite of that little boy, who wanted so badly to grow up. He wished he could be young again. Their mom and dad still alive happily married. Little Sammy still so innocent.

He always thought that if that boy could learn to love being young, maybe he could learn to love being old. And he got so close. He and Sam were back on the road, a team. Fighting evil, drinking beers. Things were simple. Why had it all come down to them, in the end? Apocalypse, Satan, angels—

He stopped himself. Angels weren't all bad. He even had told Sam that. Just 'cause one apple is rotten doesn't mean the whole barrel is. And how right he was. They had a nerdy little angel in a trenchcoat on their side now. He could smite anything, practically undefeatable. That kid just kept coming back.

And Dean admired that. It was almost Winchester-like of him. But Cas was more than family. He was Dean's best friend—if you didn't count brothers, that it. Thinking about it, Dean knew that Cas was more than best friends even. He was—

"DEAN!"

He registered the familiar, bellowing voice from a distant corner of his mind. He was deep in thought, much too far to be taken out so quickly. But soon he realized it was Sam. What if that witch had come? What if he was in danger?

He turned on his heel so fast he almost fell. Seeing the look of panic in Sam's eyes that were focused a little ways behind Dean, he flipped back around. There was the witch. Hot, just like Dean had predicted. She laughed, he recognized it. That was the laugh he had heard just minutes before.

Suddenly filled with rage, Dean charged the girl, taking his Ruby's knife out as he ran.

"Tsk-tsk" she clucked calmly, wagging her finger at him. Then, with a thrust of her hand, he plummeted to the cement ground.

"Dean!" Sam started, sprinting to him at full speed. Before he knew it, though, he too hit the floor. The both looked up at the girl, mouth wide open. _What the hell was this witch's motivation?_ they both started to think.

But neither got very long to ponder this, for with another flick of the witch's hand, they both passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay, guys. I'm quite sorry about how long it took to update. Really, I am. I got pretty into writing The Fate of a Freewill Angel. I have decided that I should probably write one story at a time, seeing as how distracted I get. Well anyway, hopefully you can forgive me. _

_Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, it really brightens my day! Enjoy!_

Chapter Three

Sam turned to Dean after having his absurdly long little flashback. Dean was still unconscious and there had yet to be any signs of that changing. Sighing to himself, Sam tried to stand up.

The keyword in this phrase is tried, seeing as how immediately after he got on two feet, he fell down. Since he had fallen onto hard cement, it hurt a great deal. Sam was a little annoyed by this, especially since he was usually a pretty balanced person.

_What the hell?_ he thought to himself, wondering what the hell was going on.

The truth of his situation took a while to really sink it. It was going to take some getting used to, after all.

He was Dean.

And being Dean, he had shorter legs. They were just as strong, so there was no big problem there. But where Sam's legs had been long and lanky before, Dean's were more compact. Where he had been more length and loftiness, he was now sturdy and stocky.

His hands reached up to his face, only to discover everything was different. Suddenly he had stubble where his cheeks had been smooth. His hair was gone, no—just shorter. It was cropped so close to his head that, in Sam standards, he might as well be bald. His sideburns were gone altogether, and his face was more rugged.

And to top it all off, he felt older. Not in a bones-creaking back-hunching way, just more…worn in. Things were different, and Sam wasn't sure how he felt about that.

He got up a little slower, as if he was adjusting to having five inches of his body cut off. This was _definitely_ going to take some getting used to.

Sam assessed his surroundings. It was still night, probably close to three by now. He scanned the entire area quickly; making sure the witch wasn't still there. When he confirmed she was gone, he walked back over to Dean. He tottered a little on the way. Walking was not as simple as it had been what seemed like mere moments before.

He looked down and saw himself, silently wondering how Dean was going to react when he found out that he was stuck in the body of his bitchy younger brother. At least he didn't have to be worried about being arrested for murder anymore.

He kicked Dean hard in the ribs, and still Dean showed no signs of waking. Sam would have thought he was dead, had his chest not been heaving up and down gently.

He probably could have been much gentler when attempting to wake his older brother, but his mood wasn't exactly at its all time high. Being in Dean's body felt totally and completely wrong. He knew for a fact that very vulgar things had been caused by it, and just thinking about it made him want to gag.

Images of the countless woman he had seen leaving the motel room as he got back from picking up food or researching at the library flashed through his mind, and he wondered just how many STDs that Dean had gotten in his life. To say he felt 'worn-in' was an understatement, now that he actually thought about it.

He looked down, and all over again was a little taken aback. It was more than disconcerting, seeing his own body lying on the cool pavement below him while his conscious was in another. He felt like a murder victim, just new to becoming a ghost.

Sam kicked Dean again, and this time he stirred. Groaning, the body of Sam—or Dean, now—sat up.

"What the he—_What is going on_!"

Sam was oddly pleased to see Dean's reaction. At least Sam had taken it like a man. Dean was practically shrieking with his shock. _Who's the girl now?_ thought Sam childishly.

"Sam! I am you—or are you me? –Wait. What. The. _Hell,_" Dean demanded, his shock now morphing into full-blown terror. His eyes were wide and his he was flailing his arms every which way. This was very out of character for Dean, who rarely ever showed emotion.

Did Sam's body contain a trace of the real Sam that was already affecting Dean? Did that mean that Sam would go all man-whore now? He shuddered at the thought, but then recomposed himself. Finally registering Dean's words, and the tone with which he said them, Sam narrowed his eyes.

Seeing Dean so upset to be in his body, Sam was a little offended. Anyone would be lucky to be inside him! Oh wow—he really wished he didn't think that.

As if reading his mind, Dean's voice got very low and threatening. This was the voice that made Sam want to run and hide when he was younger, but when said with this phrase, it was almost comical.

"Get the fuck out of me, Sam."

"I'm not in—" Sam started, but quickly decided it was a pointless argument when they had much more pressing things to worry about.

"Whatever. We need to figure this thing out. Get up."

Sam offered his hand, knowing full well what would happen when Dean got onto two feet. Dean swatted it away pride fully. If he was going to look like a girly moose-puppy, he had to at least keep a more than Dean-like personality. Sam just rolled his eyes and waited for the inevitable, selfishly mourning the bruises that his rear would collect from the fall. He hoped that he didn't have to suffer through them when—or maybe it would be more wise to say if—he got his body back.

But the fact that he might be stuck in the body of his older brother forever was not a comforting thought. Sam pushed it away and watched Dean squirm around for a while, attempting to get used to Sam's much more gangly structure.

Dean tried to stand up, but just like Sam, he was unaccustomed to this strange new body. Dean's own limbs were no longer familiar to him, and if that wasn't a freaky thought he didn't know what was. He stumbled and fell on his ass, which really fucking hurt—Sam could vouch for that.

Finally he conceded to take the hand that Sam had offered, and he was hoisted up by his himself. Well, someone else inside of himself, that is. Sometimes Dean thought that his life couldn't get any stranger, but then things like this came along to prove him wrong.

As he lost balance and almost fell over again, he cursed that stupid witch.

"That bitch is so in for it," Dean muttered as he wobbled to the Impala.

Sam had never felt so hungry, which was probably just another annoying side effect of Dean's stupid body. Although Dean didn't feel hungry at all, he agreed to stop and get a burger. He knew what it felt like to need to eat, after all.

They walked through the doors, ringing one of those bells connected to the door which had always annoyed Sam. He glowered at it and then turned to the girl at the desk.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the girl's look. She was staring at him like he was a piece of meat. _This_ he was not used to. When people saw him, most were initially scared by his height, and usually shrunk away. But once they got to know him, they always warmed up to him. He did have a fantastic personality, after all.

Except when this girl looked at him he felt like he was on display in some store window. She smiled flirtatiously at him and pointed to a table near the window. Not knowing what else to do, Sam returned a weak smile and practically hobbled his way to it.

His manner of walking definitely earned him some weird looks from the other customers. He glanced around self-consciously and finally found his eyes resting on himself, or rather Dean, trying to sweet talk desk-girl.

Sam laughed quietly to himself when they girl looked at Dean like he was the strangest person in the entire universe. Then he was reminded that she was rejecting _his_ body, and that was a little upsetting. She was missing out on quality, after all.

Sam was never usually so immodest. Suddenly he was reminded that Dean's leftover influence might be worming its way inside him. He couldn't think of anything worse, so he shoved the thought away as Dean finally gave up and came to sit down next to Sam.

"This is seriously weird. We need to switch back pronto."

He said it as if that wasn't obvious to Sam before.

He started to agree with Dean, but stopped abruptly. Some gears were beginning to turn in Sam's mind. Maybe this curse wasn't all bad. He definitely could put it to use before they figured out how to reverse it.

When the waitress came to take their orders, Sam flirted with her uncontrollably, as he had seen Dean do to many girls before. But this time Dean, or rather Sam in Dean's body, went over the top. Where Dean had been smooth and, as he liked to call it, 'sexy,' Sam purposely attempted to be cheesy and juvenile.

Seeing Sam defiling everything good that his body had been doing in regards to girls up until that point made Dean want to vomit. What if he got this reputation? What if word spread that Dean Winchester was some stupid little punk who could never get laid? Sam was asking for trouble now.

"Stop it. Now," Dean warned under his breath as the girl walked away, obviously shocked at Sam's staged immaturity. Perhaps it wasn't staged at all, though, seeing as he got his kicks from pretending to be a ridiculous version of his brother. Dean didn't know how that could fall anywhere near the term 'maturity.'

Sam faked a look of innocent shock. 'Who, me?' he mouthed, the biggest grin imaginable plastered to the face that wasn't really his. All the times they used to prank each other came rushing back. This kid deserved a good smack in the face.

Dean just grimaced and promised that he would get Sam back for this somehow.

Sam woke up to find Dean gone, yet again. At first he was worried that Dean was in trouble, but when he saw a note lying on the end table he calmed down a bit. Until he read it, that is.

**Met a nice girl at the club. Unfortunately, she had Syphilis. But being the kind and caring person that Sam Winchester is, I'm not going to let a little thing like that get in the way of true passion. See ya!**

Throwing profanities at Dean loudly, Sam swung his legs, which seemed almost like stubs of a tree trunk to him, over the bed. So this is how Dean wanted it to go, huh? Two could play at this game, and Sam was creative when it came to pranks. Dean had no idea what he was up against.

Being inside of Dean's body opened up a whole new world of opportunities Sam had never imagined possible.

Some might say it was a bit creepy, sitting alone in a dark hotel room, plotting how to best sabotage your brother while at the same time occupying his body. But it was just another day for Sam.

It had been this way for about an hour and a half since he sat down and started to think about the best way to ruin his brother's life. In a kind way that would provide endless amusement, of course. Well, for him. Maybe not so much for Dean.

And at around six thirty a.m., something clicked. He just had to think of Dean's biggest secret. And if anyone knew Dean, it was Sam. He knew the ins and outs of his big brother, and with the power of his body Sam could pretty much pull off anything. Especially this most amazing idea that had begun to form in his mind.

Sam knew Dean's biggest secret, despite his brother's valiant efforts to hide it.

Sam knew how Dean felt about Castiel.

Without even stopping to think over what he was about to do (which, in retrospect, would have probably been a good idea), Sam looked up at the ceiling and started calling the name of Dean's favorite angel.


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh my Cas, it's been a while. My computer broke, but not to worry- my friend fixed it. All is well again._

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it means SO much to me. I love you guys!_

_Though, I must give you all fair warning. I wrote this chapter in two awkward parts on two different documents because I couldn't get the other one. I tried to merge them together, but…Well, just don't be too sad if things are a bit choppy._

Chapter Four

"Castie—" Sam started, but soon realized that he should probably say Cas and throw in some snarky comments while he was at it. He had to make more of an effort to sound like Dean. He was going to be trying to trick an angel, after all. And they had that super sensory thing going on. In fact, he probably shouldn't be doing this at all…Maybe he would try again when he got better at being Dean.

He clamped his mouth shut, but unfortunately it was too late. He heard the fluttering of wings he would never be able to see and knew that Castiel had arrived. He cursed the stupid angel and his uncanny speed at showing up whenever Dean called. Sam never got that special treatment.

"Hello, Dean."

There was that voice. It was low and calm, and for some weird reason it took being in Dean's body for Sam to understand why his older brother liked the nerdy little freak so much. I mean, Sam loved him, of course. He was Sam's family, after all. But Dean felt something more profound for him entirely.

But just being in Dean's body made same understand Dean's…what should he call it? Fascination? Attraction? Whatever it was that Dean felt, exactly, Sam felt the slightest hints of it too. And that gave him sort of repulsed shivers. It felt wrong, seeing as he didn't like angels, men, or Cas.

Sam turned around and attempted to take a sort of Dean-like posture, but ended up looking like a girl trying to model and failing miserably. His left shoulder was pulled up, his right pulled down, and he was staring Castiel down with one of those really strange, intense looks that he'd so often see them share. He tried to keep his shoulders a little bit back, so he looked confident but not stupid.

After all was said and done, Sam looked like an idiot anyway.

"Cas, hey," said Sam in an overly gruff voice. Being Dean was hard, and he longed to be himself again. At least he could feel comfortable in his own skin as Sam. No prank was worth this much trouble.

But then again, it would be very satisfying to see the smirk Dean probably had wiped off his face…

Sam finally established a more determined attitude within himself and attempted again to have one of those classic Cas'n'Dean stare downs. He knew that Dean never broke away from those to save his life, but looking into the blue eyes of the slightly terrifying angel was a much more difficult task than Sam had anticipated.

If he was going to pull this prank, he was going to have to go to Dean boot camp. That meant that he had to act exactly as Dean did around Cas. He thought back to all the little mannerisms that Dean had, and tried to imitate them.

"Is there a reason you called me?" Cas asked. He looked more curious than annoyed.

"Dea—I. I…we…secret…am…love—you?

Castiel tilted his head and gave Sam one of those 'idiot humans confuse me' looks. "I don't understand."

This was pointless, he had no idea how to go about this. Dean was probably out there knocking through hookers like it was his day job and Sam couldn't even tell an angel that Dean was secretly in love with him through his brother's body.

When Sam actually considered his previous thought, he decided that their lives were way too weird. He had to go find that witch and switch their bodies back, but first he had to fix this situation.

"Just…wanted to say…hi," Sam tried, at a loss of what to say. He kicked himself internally. That didn't sound like Dean at all. It didn't even sound like Sam. It sounded like some idiot five year old.

"Hi?"

"Yeah, uh. It's a human word that's used as a greeting in modern culture," Sam started, trying to sound as Dean-snarky as possible.

"I am familiar with the term 'hi,' Dean. I was only wondering why you called me all the way from Heaven to say it."

"How was I supposed to know you were in Heaven?" Sam asked. Would Dean have said that? Maybe, if he was on the defensive.

Castiel only stared in response, as if Sam, or who he thought was Dean, was asking the stupidest questions he had ever heard. After a long pause in which Sam was feeling very awkward and tried to keep himself from making agitated twitches of the hand, Castiel finally spoke.

"You do not seem like yourself, Dean. Has something happened?"

"Something happened? Wh…What are you talking about? Nothing is wrong! Um, I gotta go…get laid or something?"

He had said it almost as if it was a question. Even though he had studied Dean his whole life, trying to be just like his big brother, Sam couldn't imitate Dean for the his life. He cringed remembering how strange he had sounded just moments before. Sam sprinted out of the motel room, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

Castiel was left staring after who he thought was Dean. His sensed something was off about the man, but he couldn't place it. It wasn't so much a feeling, as the loss of a feeling. Where he had always felt a slight intuition to Dean's emotions, he now sensed nothing. It was unsettling to him, and altogether upsetting.

Even though he was an angel of the Lord, and rarely showed, or even felt, emotion, he furrowed his eyebrows in frustration at this confusing new development. Every time that he thought he finally understood Dean Winchester, he went and did another puzzling thing. Before Castiel left, he vowed he would get to the bottom of that loss of Dean-sensory which he had experienced just moments before.

Dean, or if someone saw him and had not been updated on their current situation, Sam, sauntered into the room. He fully expected to see himself sitting there, attempting to warp Dean's own features into a trademarked Sam Winchester bitch face.

He was disappointed, a little to his dismay. Sam was nowhere to be seen, and his first instinct was to find him at once. He might be in trouble, after all. He was just in the process of shoving a gun down the back of his pants when he heard the sound of wings fluttering.

"Sam."

Dean almost jerked around to correct him, but he decided that it would be more fun to pretend he was Sam for the time being. If the angel didn't try and fix the situation, like Dean knew that he probably would, than Dean could continue to have some fun.

"Hi, Cas," said Dean, in a way-too-high-pitched-to-be-Sam voice.

Castiel's had looked pretty confused by his surroundings before, but when he studied the hunter for a few seconds Dean saw his eyebrows sinking lower on his face than he thought was physically possible. He chocked it up to divine miracles and left it at that.

Dean had expected Cas to say something mysterious or important, but when the baffled angel said nothing, there was a pregnant pause. Dean contemplated what to say next, but his thoughts were interrupted when Castiel finally spoke.

"You are not Sam, and Dean was not Dean."

How had he figured that out? Goddammit he hated angels. And he was probably going to ruin all the fun now. Dean knew that Castiel would figure it out pretty quickly, if he hadn't already, so he owned up to it all.

"Oh, right. About that…"

And Dean told him the whole weird story, from getting wind of the job until—

"And then that one-legged whor—fancy lady, I mean. She took me to the back of the room for more privacy and I'm pretty sure she had more than just syphilis. But I sucked it up for the sake of Sammy's body, though, and then I—"

"You have given me enough information, Dean."

Snapping out of his bordering on perverted reverie, Dean looked up at Cas. He looked thoroughly horrified, in angel terms that is. Which meant that Castiel's lips were the tiniest bit parted and his eyebrows were pulled down only in the slightest. For everyone else, that freaky little angel was hard to read, but it seemed to come easily to Dean.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," he said, a little sheepishly.

"It is not of import," he responded, waving it off. "Sam should have told me this earlier. Though this does explain why he was acting so strangely."

If Dean had been a dog, his ears would have been visibly perking up at that statement. Instead his head just turned so fast it gave him surprisingly painful whiplash. Sam had been there? And seen Cas? What had he told him? Did Cas know about…It's not like Sam knew…Knew _what_? What was it that he was so worried about?

His head began to hurt while he continued to over think it. Sam couldn't have told Cas anything too bad, because Dean didn't have any secrets that Sam could've told. There was nothing going on between—there was nothing going on.

Although he told himself that he didn't need to worry, he was not entirely convinced. He decided to get information by acting casual about it.

"Oh, Sam saw you? Did he say anything interesting…or…?"

Super smooth.

"He mumbled some things about love and then ran out the door soon after."

Love? That couldn't be good. Dean's heart started to race. What if Castiel knew now and he was just avoiding the subject because he didn't feel the same way? What way? Dean didn't feel anything!

"So did he say anything else…About the love thing, I mean?"

Why was he being so obvious? Dean wanted to kick himself. He just needed to know what Castiel knew, and then he could stop being such a raving idiot.

Castiel, in fact, was smirking now. He did know, actually. But it wasn't Sam that had informed him. He knew for a long time, because he could feel it. When you raise someone out of Hell, you form a profound bond with them. Being an angel, his senses were heightened. He could actually feel most of Dean's emotions. But raising Dean out of Hell had other consequences as well.

When the angel gripped his soul, he could sense it. No, more than that—he could see into it. And when he did, he saw all the beauty in it. His soul was so pure, barely tainted by Hell. Even after all he had done. Castiel had not wanted to bring the man from Hell initially. He had started the end of the world, after all. But orders were orders, and now he felt glad they were.

When he touched that soul he fell in love.

It was a terrifying experience for anyone, but especially an angel. Falling, in any sense of the word, was forbidden—a deadly sin. And now he was doing it for a human, the human who began the Apocalypse. Michael's vessel. It was wrong in more ways than one, but Castiel couldn't help it.

And then he started to feel Dean's own emotions, when they were strong. And whenever Dean called to Castiel, his vessel's heart skipped a beat. It was lowly and pathetic, but Castiel couldn't help it. He couldn't control it. He wished he could, for it made him feel like an insect, an ape.

But then he would find the Winchesters, and he would see them. They had such hope, so much good in their hearts. And Castiel could feel Dean's nervousness. At first he wondered why, but then that nervousness changed to something else. A warm feeling. Had Castiel not just begun to experience it himself, he never would have been able to tell what it was.

It was love.

When Castiel first found it, he contemplated telling Dean then and there. But seals were breaking, people were dying, Lucifer was trying to climb out of Hell. It was not the time, and Dean couldn't bear any distractions. There was already too big of a weight on his shoulders.

So Cas watched, and waited, and tried to help the Winchesters whenever it was possible.

The angel's had predicted the dark path of Sam and warned Dean. But Sam couldn't help it, it wasn't Sam's fault. The angels were becoming corrupt, and Castiel almost gave in. And soon Lucifer was out. And they had Dean, they trapped him. Castiel didn't lift a finger, until he saw him. Green eyes attempted to hold his gaze, but for once Cas couldn't return it. And he got punched for it, a truly human action.

That's when he knew what he had to do. He came back for Dean, he broke him out. He joined their group of renegade fighters, and all the while he was falling faster and faster for Dean Winchester.

And now he had rebelled, so didn't he deserve to tell Dean, to feel emotions like he did? But it still wasn't the time. Dean had to resist Michael and help Sam resist Lucifer. They had to stop all the destruction that the Devil was creating. His weight was still too great for Castiel to distract him with silly things like love.

But now this way happening. He could use Sam as the perfect way to tell Dean his feelings, because Sam had informed him of Dean's. Castiel could finally feel those emotions he had wanted for years. He knew that he shouldn't, that they had things they had to do before Castiel ruined everything, but he didn't care anymore. The nagging feeling that now was the time wouldn't go away. There was only one thing to do.

"He told me that you love me, Dean Winchester."


	5. Chapter 5

_Oh my Cas. It's been so long. I'M SO SORRY! It's just that finals are this week and I'm pretty stressed. Still, that's no excuse for how long it's been. So sorry, please forgive me!_

_Well, enjoy anyway!_

* * *

Chapter Five

Dean couldn't say anything. Not in the way that he didn't want to, or he didn't know what to say. He had it all mapped out in his head. He was supposed to say something along the lines of, "What the hell are you talking about, Cas? There's no way I'm in love with you. Do you see how many chicks I bang on a daily basis?"

What came out of his mouth was silence. He couldn't say anything in the physical way. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he had not braced himself for the worst possibility, or maybe it was just the mere fact that those words came out of Castiel's mouth at all.

Either way, things were not looking good for Dean right now.

He had managed to get his mouth open, a nice precursor to actual speech. Just as he began to force a sound out of his traitorous throat, he caught something on Castiel's face.

A smirk.

Castiel, the angel of the freaking Lord, was smirking. A million vile thought piled into Dean's head in that instant, all rushing to get out and wipe that grin right off his smug little face. In his head it was, "Don't smile like you've got me tongue tied, Chuckles. I was just thinking of the best possible way to express your stupidity."

It didn't come out that way. What did emerge from his mouth was more of an "Errrr…mmuh…ehh."

Now Cas was laughing. _Castiel_ was laughing. Dean didn't think he would be able to tolerate this much more without lashing out. Something was going to pay for this—dearly. He hoped that he wasn't in such a rage he took it out on Baby. Nothing was worse than when that happened.

Thinking of the possible damage to his beloved Impala, he went into a sort of daze. Maybe it was an overreaction, but after everything that had happened, he felt he deserved some time to overreact. He couldn't think too straight, but Dean knew that he had to suck it up and actually use some words. There was no getting out of this situation without them. He opened his mouth to tell Castiel to shut up, and was surprised to find that he couldn't.

There was something there. On his mouth, or was it in his mouth? He couldn't tell. It felt kind of rough, definitely not what he was used to on his lips. And wait, what was gripping onto his arms so tightly? And when did his hands grab onto something? Was that a person? Hips? Whatever on his lips was now gone, but he felt something else. Wait a second…Something was hot on his neck. It was definitely breathing. Breathing?

Had he blacked out and somehow gone to a stip club? Suddenly all the possible scenarios of what could have gone wrong came running though his head. Was he being possessed and that's why he had no recollection of how he got to a strip club? No…he had the anti-possession tattoo. A siren might have blacked out his memory, but there wasn't any signs of one in this area as far as he could remember. Finally a dark thought streaked across his mind. Maybe Sam's body was just really fucked up and this happened to him sometimes. Oh, Sammy…

Breaking away, he found himself staring straight into a pair of too-blue eyes. Those eyes could have only belonged to one person, and it was definitely not a girl.

"What the…Cas?"

The eyes widened. Dean was looking straight into them, and for the first time he could pretty much read the angel like a book. Maybe it was because of their even closer than usual proximity, but he could practically feel Castiel's thoughts bouncing around his own head.

And then what just happened all came rushing back.

It had happened way too fast for him to process, even if it had been some regular one night stand. They were standing there, and then they were going at it like they'd been doing it their whole lives.

Dean wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to vomit. But when he remembered he was in Sam's body, he did. He wasn't sure if it was just the fact that he had kissed Cas, or the fact that _Sam_ had kissed Cas, but he was heaving over the trashcan in no time.

Castiel was also not feeling too well. He wondered if any of the angels had happened to see this. Angels were very interconnected, after all. What if one had come to check up on him at the exact moment that…That what? What exactly had happened?

Did Dean kiss him? Did he kiss Dean? He had no idea, and he wasn't even sure he was glad it happened.

Well, that wasn't really what he thought. He was ecstatic that it had happened, mostly because he was pretty sure it was Dean who had gone in for the kiss. And it had been electric, to say the least.

Maybe Dean would have called him a girl for saying something so feminine, but he didn't care. It was just…was. Their lips met and he felt something inside him jump. It sort of like the feeling he believed that humans got when they went on those rides at the fairs. The ones where the cabin takes you up and then drops you back down again to make you feel the sudden change in altitude. His vessel remembered those, and it felt exactly like that.

And Castiel was glad that he had finally gotten the chance to see what it felt like to kiss him, and to see what Dean Winchester would do when confronted with the fact that he _was_ in love.

But he wasn't glad that it caused him to throw up.

As Dean straightened up, wiped his mouth, and turned back around, Cas looked down. He was crestfallen. Could it have really been that terrible? He knew that he didn't have that much experience, but…

Dean could see where Castiel's train of thought was going. And he knew that he should leave it. He knew that he should pretend that throwing up was his reaction to kissing another man, let alone another species. But that look, it made him want to wrap the little man up in a hug and cuddle him. Which is saying a lot, because if there's one thing that Dean Winchester never does, it's cuddle.

And he didn't even know for sure that Castiel felt the same way. It wasn't like he actually said it outright or anything.

But who was Dean kidding, they knew. They both knew. And if Dean was going to use that as an excuse not to confront the situation, he was a wimp and a dick.

"Cas…I, uh. It's not that I was…I mean, it's just that I…"

This was not going well. Dean was pretty much a nervous wreck of conflicting emotions.

"Dean, do not worry. I understand. I'll go now."

Castiel made that little subtle turn that he does when he's about to flap his magical angel wings and fly to rainbow land. Dean practically tackled him to make sure he stayed. It was necessary, though. Those guys are freaking fast.

"Cas! No! I was just trying to say that I didn't throw up in the trash can because I didn't like it. I'm not saying I _did_ like it or anything." Dean didn't even know himself whether he did or didn't like it, he just knew that he wasn't going to say he liked it. It's not like he was gay or anything. He just wasn't…He just didn't want Cas to be sad.

Seeing Castiel's head tilt of confusion, Dean pressed on. "It was just that you didn't even kiss me, ya know? You kissed Sammy, and I don't know…It just felt really wrong…"

Dean looked at Castiel's face searchingly, trying to read into that expressionless sculpture and get anything out of it, anything at all. What he did not expect was for the mouth to open into hearty laughter, complete with a smile, sound, the whole package.

Whatever was going on with Cas today was not normal. Dean wasn't sure what he thought about it, but he was positive that Castiel laughing was unsettling. Also a bit aggravating, though. He was coming as close as Dean Winchester could to pouring his heart out to the guy, and Cas just stands there and laughs in his face?

"What?" snapped Dean, his voice caustic.

Castiel could see that his laughter was upsetting Dean, so he let it taper away. "Oh, Dean. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh so hard. It's just that, the body isn't important to me."

"The body…important to…what?" he demanded. Dean was flabbergasted that Castiel could be so inconsiderate. His body was beautiful, stunning, magnificent. He could be an underwear model with his body. Did he dare call it…unimportant?

Realizing his mistake, Castiel quickly tried to make amends. "No, no. You have a…nice body…?" Dean nodded. It wasn't exactly the reverence he was looking for, but it would have to do for now. Castiel continued, relieved that he wasn't in trouble. "See, the thing is, that I'm an angel."

Dean bit back a retort. How dumb did Castiel think he was? It's not like he told Dean he was an "angel of the lord" every freaking second of every freaking day or anything. Okay, well maybe that was an exaggeration. Dean just rolled his eyes and nodded him on.

"That means that I don't really see you for your physical appearance. I see you for your soul."

Oh. Souls. Dean didn't like when talk got to the subject of souls. In his eyes, he had more than enough experience with them, thank you very much. Selling, torturing, resuscitating, throwing in Hell, yanking from Hell. Whatever kind of soul you need, Dean Winchester was your man.

So he was already predisposed to hate any talk of souls altogether, but the way that Castiel said it made it so much worse. Obviously if Castiel saw him for his soul, he saw everything about him. Nothing was hidden, not even the things that he hid from Sammy, from himself. He was just naked for Castiel's enjoyment.

Figuratively! That was meant figuratively. God, even his own brain was on the fritz today.

"Oh...well…"

Speech was really difficult for Dean today. He was not proud of his ability to formulate words and structure them into sentences. He inwardly cursed himself for ditching so much school. He doubted they taught Talking to Gay Angels 101, though.

"I should go. I'll deal with your and Sam's…dilemma."

Him and Sam! The body switch! Shit, Dean thought, I totally forgot about that!

But thinking about it again struck him with an idea, and a big smile grew on his face. He knew that it was going to be fun.

"Hey Cas, hold on. I got an idea."

Even though Cas knew by now that Dean's ideas usually ended in either one of them dying or severely injured, but he couldn't just leave.

"What is it?"

Dean was now the one who was smirking, oh how the tables turned. "I think I have a good way to pay our dear Sammy back for telling you those things. You in?"

Castiel wasn't in. He was so far from in. He could already tell it sounded like a bad idea, and he knew for sure that something was going to go terribly wrong. It always did around the Winchesters, after all.

"Yes, always."

Dammit.


	6. Chapter 6

_I should probably be studying…But I love you guys too much not to give you some more of the story. Oh, and I have about three more new ideas right now which I'll probably write in about a week. Okay, enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter Six

"Shut up! He's coming! Are you ready?"

"No. I don't think this is—"

"Good, just remember to act like you don't know anything."

Castiel sighed and turned to face the door of the shabby motel. As Dean went and hid in the bathroom, he waited. Sam was taking longer than expected to get in the door, so he stood and counted the little symmetrical shapes on the wallpaper.

Humans loved symmetry. Castiel thought it was because their lives were so unpredictable and messy that they liked to have regularity all around them. It was pointless, though, because it never made them feel any better. They just tried to forget about it for a while, but it would all come bubbling to the surface eventually.

Just like it all came bubbling to the surface with him and Dean today.

But he supposed there was no time to really consider the repercussions it would have on their relationship, what with Dean pretending nothing strange had happened and sending him off on some crazy plan to pay Sam back. Castiel still didn't really understand why he needed punishing, though. Was confessing Dean's feelings really so wrong?

He vaguely wondered what Dean would do when he found out that Sam hadn't actually said anything at all. Hopefully he wouldn't banish Cas, because he didn't think he could stand not being with Dean after something had happened to bring them so close.

What had happened, though? Cas knew that Dean had initiated the kiss, and it wasn't as if he was going to say no. Although angels did not customarily show affection with their lips, for sometimes they had either too many or none at all, he was not going to turn down the offer.

Of course he had pushed back, with arguably more force than he should have. He knew that _he_ had been the one to shove his tongue into Dean's mouth. He knew that it had tasted good, a little salty, a hint of beer playing on his tongue. He knew that it was exactly what he had wanted and expected.

Then he felt Dean's hands grabbing his hips and pulling him closer, and everything in his brain had shorted out. It was troubling to lose control of your own body like that, especially for an angel. He was supposed to be in control, even though it was another person's body that he was inhabiting. Yet he couldn't remember anything that had happened after his own chest was pulled against Dean's tightly, and he could feel the heat radiating off the hunter's body. Both their pants had definitely felt tighter, and even if he wasn't a human, Castiel knew what that meant.

But when his memory came back, he could sense that at least a couple minutes had passed. A couple minutes with Dean that he would never be able to remember, and he resented that. Who knows what could have happened? It didn't matter at the time, though. He was already elated that something had happened at all.

And then Dean had vomited. Castiel would say that was something which easily ruined the mood.

But now Sam was unlocking the door. He could hear the gears and knobs clicking. Humans were so prone to paranoia. Although he knew that they should be, it seemed silly to lock the doors when anything could get easily get inside if it wanted to.

The door swung opened, and Sam walked in. Or, Cas supposed he should say that _Dean_ walked in. He could barely see the difference in the bodies, besides the fact that he felt a little more sentimental toward Dean's.

Sam started to walk into the room, but stopped short when he saw who was waiting for him.

"Cas! Oh, uh, hi," he stammered out, barley concealing just how uncomfortable he felt.

Sam hoped that he wasn't there for answers. After thinking about it for a while, he realized how much of a jerk he would be if he had actually told Cas that Dean was completely in love with him. First of all, he could never be _really_ sure (but he was), and second of all, it was Dean's secret to share if he ended up wanting to (or, more likely, if he didn't).

"Sam. I was told to—" a sudden sound, reminiscent of thumping or crashing, came from the bathroom. "I mean, I wanted to say that…"

"Cas! Hey, buddy!" Sam interrupted. He could hear in Castiel's voice that he was going to say something more meaningful than he wanted to pop in for a beer, and he didn't want to know what it was. Maybe if he could just stall him until Dean got back with his body and he explained the whole thing, then this problem would go away.

"Hello, Dean."

He said it as if he knew nothing of the switch in two brothers' minds, even though Sam's soul was radiating in front of him as clearly as day. If there was anything Cas could do better than anyone (well maybe not a couple of his superiors), it was lie. And this was one of the easier lies he had told in his long life. Plus, now that the initial shock of having to tell the lie in the first place had worn off, he wouldn't be making any more mistakes.

"I don't think that Dean is—SAM!" he practically shouted, realizing his mistake. He hated situations like this, and he knew that if Dean was there he would be laughing his ass off at him. In fact, he could almost hear the self-satisfied cackle in his head as it was, though it sounded muffled and far away. He hoped hearing Dean in his head wouldn't become a regular thing now that he was in his older brother's body. He didn't think he would be able to handle that twenty four hours a day.

When he returned from his slightly troubling musings, he found that Castiel was looking at him with that strange little head tilt that he did. It was very discomforting, and he didn't see how Dean could manage to ever hold his gaze. It just made Sam stressed out and want to go hide under a giant rock for the rest of his life.

He hoped to God that Cas actually _did_ have something meaningful, or at least something important to say. Otherwise none of his excuses he was planning would work.

"I meant, I don't think that _Sam_ is here. And I can see you have something big to say, so maybe you just want to come back later?"

He said it in a questioning tone, desperately hoping that Castiel would leave and give Sam some time to think about how he was going to get out of this one. Maybe he could track down that witch and convince her to get them back in their rightful bodies…But she didn't have any reason to.

If he ever got a moment alone, he would be sure to call Bobby and see if there was some spell that would take away her powers, or scare her shitless if nothing else. They just needed some ammunition before they went in there, guns blazing, and gave her an idiotic ultimatum.

While Sam wondered about how to get out of his witch situation, Cas saw a perfect opportunity to get out of this odd sibling rivalry Dean seemed to have stuck him in. The Winchesters were curious, in the way that they loved each other so much, and yet felt the need to always be fighting. Whatever got them through, he supposed. But for now, he had a way out, and he wasn't going to pass that up.

"Yes, I probably should come back at a later time. I will see you then, Dean. Goodbye."

* * *

The sound of wings flapping and the sight of an empty room had never looked so beautiful to the hunter.

"Dean."

The angel had appeared in the bathroom with no notice, and startled Dean severely. He hated when Cas did that because it made his heart skip a beat every time.

"Cas! Why aren't you out there tricking Sam like I told you to?"

"He told me I should wait until you got back. Or rather, he told me to wait until Sam got back. I think that he wants to get you two in the same room so it will be easier to explain the situation."

"Well, whatever. Go back out there and give him a little pay back—angel style! Hey, wait…"

All through their conversation, Dean had not noticed that Castiel "zapped" them outside the motel. They were now standing right outside the door to his own motel room.

"What are we doing here? Why aren't we in the bathroom anymore?"

Castiel had initially thought to take them outside so that Sam wouldn't hear their conversation. Dean did have a tendency to speak quite loudly, after all. But now that he was there, an idea struck him.

Ignoring Dean's questions, he walked to the door. Dean watched the angel's dirty, tan trench coat billow out behind him. Without that flimsy little piece of clothing, he felt that Castiel wouldn't feel like the same person to him. The whole body and style screamed Castiel's name, and he knew that without it he would probably never recognize his favourite angel. It frustrated him endlessly, because he felt that Cas had so much power. He could always see Dean, no matter what form he took, but Dean relied on Cas being in that certain vessel.

Jimmy! He had completely forgotten there was some poor sap stuck inside Castiel, being ridden day in and day out by an insanely self-righteous cosmic entity. He had completely forgotten that what he had been kissing just a little over an hour ago had not even been Castiel's lips, just the ones he had been borrowing for the time being.

Dean suddenly felt sick again, but he had to suck up quickly, for he just noticed that Cas had been walking over to open the door. In fact, just at that very moment he was opening the door to the motel room, and no sooner than when he had done did he disappear. Dean was left standing alone outside of the room, staring in dumbly with his mouth half open.

He saw himself turn around, and his own features light up with recognition.

"Dean!" he exclaimed, but he knew it was actually Sam saying it.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean replied, stepping into the third-class, run-down room. He supposed that he should just forget everything that had happened an hour before, and pretend that hadn't exploited Sam's body so he could kiss another man.

He had kissed an angel, who had been riding a male vessel, while in his little brother's body. Every now and then Dean wondered what kind of life he was living, and if it was too late to get out.

Sam had that look on his face: the guilty look. Even though his face wasn't his own, he was still able to warp the features in exactly the same way to get that perfect "I'm so sorry, please don't hate me, I just want love" kind of way.

Although on the outside, his face may have only showed the typical Sam-guilt, on the inside it was like there was a raging war. He knew that he shouldn't tell Dean anything that happened. Dean liked to not talk about his feelings, and by not saying anything he would just be respecting his older brother's wishes, right? But he still had that nagging feeling telling him to just come clean. It wasn't as if he had _actually_ said anything, he had left before it got too bad. So he wasn't even in the wrong, and it would be better if he told Dean himself, instead of Cas describing the awkward encounter.

"I almost told Cas that you liked him, I mean _like-_liked him. But I didn't!"

Sam spewed it out all at once, even though his brain had decided to not do anything. He cursed Dean's stupid face for letting him say the words, and looked up at his older brother hopefully. Maybe he wouldn't get mad. Maybe he would let it go, or ignore it altogether!

As it turned out, Dean just laughed. Sam didn't know what was so funny, but the man just started laughing, chest heaving as humongous waves of laughter rolled out. He wondered vaguely if he should run and hide while he still had the chance. It was possible that Dean was tricking him into feeling safe, only to beat him to a pulp later.

He never got the chance to consider it farther, though, because Dean began to talk. "Like-like? What are you in middle school?" And apparently repeating what Sam had said was as funny as the original, because Dean broke into another fit of maniacal cackling.

"Shut up!" Sam exclaimed. To Dean, this made him sound more like a middle school girl than ever, and the laughing just got worse. Despite Sam's adamant protests, he continued to laugh for a good seven minutes. Eventually it become too infectious for the younger boy to refuse, and he too began to laugh. Neither could stop for about seven minutes. After that, Sam took a seat on the barely-cushioned chair and Dean plopped his unnaturally long Sam-legs on the sofa.

Finally, after a couple minutes of silent recovery, Sam spoke. "Well, either way, are you mad?"

"No, Sammy. Why would I be?"

"Maybe because I almost told Cas? Or maybe just because I know at all!"

Dean had to admit that Sammy thinking that he "like-liked" Cas, no matter how stupid the term was, made him uncomfortable. Dean didn't even know if he liked Cas, but many times, it seemed that his younger brother knew things about him before even he did. Maybe his brother was right about this one too…

Sam could see that his brother was thinking about the whole situation, and he didn't want to interrupt that. Thinking was not something that Dean did very often, so any instance of it was to be let last as long as physically possible and treasured for a long time after. Who knew when something so rare would happen again, after all!

Sam wasn't incorrect about Dean, which he usually wasn't. The eldest Winchester was thinking long and hard about his relationship with the rogue angel, and wondering what it all really meant. He knew that they had kissed, but he wasn't sure what he had felt about it. Obviously he had wanted it, since he thought that he had started it, but maybe it was just a spur of the moment thing.

But he hadn't wanted it to end. Not until he remembered that it was Sam's body, anyway. And that was what had really disturbed him, that his little brother was the one kissing Cas. He wanted to be the one kissing Cas, didn't he? It wasn't like he was gay, though. He was just…

In love.

He knew that was the term for what he had felt, but what did love really mean, anyway? It was such a stupid thing, something that men just threw out there whenever they wanted to get a girl to do something for them. Did it really have any significance anymore?

But he knew that was what he felt, and knowing something for certain felt good. Really good. In fact, it made him feel so pumped up and self-confident that he wanted to tell everyone he was in love. Especially Cas.

For now, though, he would settle for his brother.

"I don't like-like Cas, Sam."

The young hunter could tell that Dean meant to continue this. He could also tell that it was something big, and if he didn't get it out now, he never would. Making no movement, he silently urged his brother on.

"I'm in love with him."

Dean beamed. It felt better to say it out loud than it did to figure it out in his head.


	7. Chapter 7

_I have no excuse for how long it took to update. All I can say is that I'm really, really sorry. But my other stories are almost done so then I'll just update this pretty regularly while I edit the those. Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter Seven

"Hah! Hahaha! I knew it; I completely knew it!"

Dean just gaped as Sam jumped up, yelling and bellowing about exactly how smart he actually was. Maybe he had good instincts, but all Dean could think as he witnessed this strange display was that his brother was an idiot. He wondered if it was Dean's body that was doing it to him, but quickly rejected the thought. Sam had always been a girly little bitch. It's why Dean loved him.

"Sam," Dean started calmly.

"Yeah, Angel-lover?" his brother taunted back at him.

"Shut the fuck up."

Sam opened his mouth to spout forth what he thought was a witty retort to Dean's crass demand, but saw the embarrassed look on his brother's face and closed his mouth quickly. Nodding silently, he sat back down on the wooden chair with the skimpy cushion.

The way Dean admitted everything about Cas had made Sam think he was comfortable with talking about it, but now he could see that wasn't the case. Saying it out loud, or maybe even thinking it at all, had been a big step for Dean. He hoped that eventually Dean warmed up to the whole thing, because it would be an amazing source of entertainment.

As much as he wanted to make fun of Dean endlessly, though, he knew that would send across the wrong message. He didn't want Dean to think Sam didn't support him. The truth was quite the contrary, actually. Sam had noticed Dean and Castiel's chemistry a long, long time ago. After that, he figured it was only a matter of time before they got off their respective asses and did something about it. He never figured how long it would actually take.

But now that Dean had finally gotten over himself and accepted it, they could do something about it. And boy was Sam glad! In reality, he really liked those two together. Sure, it wasn't the most conventional couple, but they fit together surprisingly well. A rebellious angel and an idiotic human: they were just what the other needed, and both loyal to the point of obsession.

"So," Sam started. He knew that he had to approach the situation delicately. Talking about feelings with Dean Winchester was like trying to dismantle a highly sensitive atomic bomb. "Are you going to tell Cas about…y'know."

It took Dean a while to answer that question. While it might have seemed simple to any random person who saw it, both boys knew just how complicated the situation was. Dean had many thoughts racing through his head.

He knew that he _wanted_ to Cas, but he didn't know how the angel would take the news. The dude was really strange, and very unpredictable. What if it screwed up the friendship they had taken years to build? They had gone through so much; he didn't want to fuck it all up now with something like this.

But he didn't think he could see Cas now and _not_ tell him. Even if he could do it, he felt like it might kill him. He knew what he had to do, now he just had to figure out how he was going to do it.

"Yeah…yeah, I think I am."

Dean wasn't looking at Sam. As a rule, he never looked at anyone, especially not Sam, when discussing his own feelings. If he had glanced up at his younger brother, though, he would have seen a face with a stupid grin plastered all over it. He might have even laughed, because it was Dean's face that Sam was smiling with, and it was Dean's trademark smile he was sporting.

Having switched bodies was another problem that Dean had to consider, though. He didn't think that he could tell Cas in this body. Maybe Cas couldn't see the difference, but Dean could feel it. Having somebody else's entire body was something he would never be able to get used to, and knowing someone else was walking around in his own was even worth. Plus, he was going to have to take a shower eventually if he didn't want to stink up the whole joint, and he really didn't want to see all of Sam's…_that._

Dean knew that they had to find a way to switch back, and he also knew that he couldn't ask for Castiel's help. Seeing the angel and not telling him how he felt would be too much, and Dean was scared that if he didn't do it the second he saw Cas again, then he would never be able to. However they managed to switch back, they had to do it on their own.

"Okay," Dean said, finally looking up. "We need to get back into our own freaking bodies—now."

Sam nodded violently. He completely agreed, for he was also thinking about how much he needed a shower. Even if they didn't want to admit it, he and his brother had very similar thought processes.

"So, find the witch?"

"Find the witch."

* * *

"Dean, we've been waiting for hours now. She's not coming."

"But I wished for her to come! What, too good to deal with us now, you little _bitch_!"

As if on cue, Sam and Dean both leaned back against the stupid machine that had gotten them into this mess and sank to the cold, damp pavement below it. They sat silently for a while, not even looking up. They were both dead tired and starting to _really _need showers. It was getting to the point where neither wanted to be around the other, let alone outside. Luckily it was pretty late now, and no one was around to notice it.

While they were staring at the ground dejectedly, a mysterious and unnaturally attractive woman walked up. She did it so quietly neither brother even heard, which was quite a feat, considering how keen and attentive both Winchesters were to the world around them.

"Hello, boys."

They knew who it was before they even looked up, and could practically hear the smirk in her self-satisfied voice. It was endlessly frustrating, and Dean wanted to stab her right then and there, but he knew that she could stop him with a flick of her wrist. They had to bide their time, and attack at the exact right moment. Until then, they needed to talk in their trademark, witty way, to distract her and put her at ease.

"Ah, if it isn't the creepily hot witch! Or as I like to call her, Ms. Compensation."

The woman gave Dean a slightly inquisitive look. He wasn't surprised that she didn't get it, his clever comments were really off their game these days. He blamed Sam's stupid body. It was all practicality in this stupid brain. Dean wondered just how boring his little brother's life actually was.

"Because you made yourself pretty to compensate for your terrible personality? Maybe you're just a little behind the times, but forcing people to switch bodies isn't how you make friends these days."

"Hah-hah," the witch mocked, obviously not amused by Dean. "I heard that you tried way too hard to be funny when you're in a sticky situation. They really understated that."

This sparked Sam's interest. Was she working for someone they knew? If that was the case, this could be much worse than they initially thought.

"Who is 'they', exactly?" he asked cautiously.

"Wouldn't you like to know, little Sammy!" she laughed. "Oh, but it doesn't matter anyway. You boys are so popular that practically anyone—or maybe I should say any_thing_—could have told me."

"Okay, then who are _you_?"

Sam hadn't really expected an answer, but this witch was entirely unpredictable. She had cursed them for no reason, after all. He figured it was worth a try, and he was right.

"I am Tirae the Terrible. I am the world's most powerful witch."

"If I had a nickel for every witch who said they were the most powerful, I would be Bill fucking Gates," Dean muttered, purposely loud enough so that he knew she could hear him.

He had been trying to get her frustrated and distracted, but all he got was another smirk. He really hated this bitch.

"So, Tirae the Terrible, what are you going to do with us now?" asked Sam, or as Dean had started to call him, Mr. Practical.

"I was thinking of killing you, but seeing you guys all switched around and frazzled might be even more fun."

She had that droning, nasally sort of voice that sort of reminded Dean of Meg. It just added to Dean's hate for the woman: not only was what she said really annoying, the voice she used to say it was maddening.

"Whatever you do, can you just get it over with?" Dean snapped. He was getting tired of this whole 'play with your food' routine.

There was that smirk again. If she didn't die in the next twenty seconds, Dean thought that he might. He tried to stand up and advance toward her, in the hopes of putting Ruby's knife straight through her stomach. Unfortunately, he was unable to even move from his position against the fortune machine, let alone walk fifteen feet over to Tirae.

He looked up, a very annoyed and exasperated expression on his face. If he thought that what she was doing before was anything like a grin, then she was the fucking Cheshire Cat now.

"You didn't think I would let you run free, did you? Maybe your other monsters are stupid enough to underestimate you two, but not me. I have heard of the Winchester boys, and I'm going to take any cha—"

Sam, Dean, and Tirae's eyes widened as she was cut short when something silver stabbed through her stomach. She fell to the ground, revealing a familiar figure.

"Cas!" exclaimed both Sam and Dean at once.

"Hello," replied the angel, stoic as ever.

He looked like some sort of superhero, standing over them that way. His shining, silver blade was dripping with deep red blood, and his trenchcoat was billowing out behind them in the night wind. The lights of the town were framing him in a way that held both boys' gazes.

He walked over, and the Winchesters soon found two fingers on each of their foreheads. Before they knew it, they suddenly felt very different. Their awe-filled, gaping stares were broken as they looked down at themselves, only to discover they were in fact themselves now.

"Oh God, thank you, Cas. I was scared I was going to be stuck in Dean forever! I mean, not like that. We're brothers! I meant, in his body. I mean, because of the witch!"

"Sam…Shut the fuck up."

Dean gave Sam a look, and the babbling little brother knew that was his cue to leave those two alone. But he sure wasn't going to miss this moment, so he walked away until neither could see him, and then turned and hid behind a bush to see if Dean ended up having the nerve to tell Cas. He knew that if Dean didn't do it, Sam wouldn't be able to stop himself from stepping in and helping.

"Cas, I gotta tell you something."

The angel just tilted his head. He was silent, as usual, and Dean could tell that he wasn't going to make this any easier. That was what came of being with an angel, he supposed.

He didn't know how he wanted to go about telling Cas. It was a big deal, after all, and with all this witch business he hadn't really had time to think about it. He hadn't thought that he would see Cas so soon after. He'd just have to wing it…

"_I'_."

Smooth.

Dean just stood there, feeling more awkward then he had ever felt in his entire life. Who knew how Cas would respond? What does a human even say to something like that, let alone an angel? God, he should have just kept this to himself. Nothing good ever came of talking about your feeling, he should have—

He was stopped short by lips being pushed against him, hands grabbing his arms and pulling him forward. He felt Castiel against him, and he kissed back. In that moment he knew that this is what he wanted, and that this is what made him happy.

Dean decided that this was much better than any words that Cas could've used.


End file.
